The end is cold
by NewVictory
Summary: Russia pushes on, over Finland's boarders. Many have been killed and many shall be killed in the future, but Russia has no time to feel sorry for the dead, he must find Finland.


He knew Finland would fight till the end. He wanted his independence badly.

The bullets flew in the air and Russia dodged behind a big bolder. He reloaded and glanced around the rock to aim. He fired and there was a cry from one of Finland's soldiers. One of his own men joined him behind the rock.

"Sir, this is cruel." he said. The man was young, he had barely outgrown adolescence. He stared at Russia as he took aim once again. "So many has died, shouldn't we-"

"Retreat?" Russia finished the sentence and fired. Another cry.

"Sir, I'm just saying-"

"This is not the time for talking..." he said and hid behind the rock as a shower of bullets hit the other side of the rock and the snow covered branches behind them. "... this is the time of acting!"

He glanced around the rock again and ran forward in the deep snow. He hid behind a tree with a huge trunk and looked back at the lad who peeked out from behind the rock. The young man aimed and fired, but took a hit in the shoulder closest to the heart and fell to the ground, lifeless.

"Damn!" Russia cursed, he might have needed backup. But there was no time to mourn the dead, he could do that afterwards. Or would he be dead? He doubted that.

He pushed onwards, shot several soldiers and saw more of his own get killed. Eventually he recognised the surroundings, he was close now. Two other men had joined him and covered his back and front as he ran. One of them stood close when he got shot in the head and dark red blood sprayed Russia's white scarf.

He kept going until he had left the real battle behind him, the sound of the gunfire was distant now and he walked out of the forest and stood on a snow covered field. In the middle of the field stood another man in a light blue uniform, covered in blood like Russia's own clothes. The man stood with his back facing Russia, he held a rifle.

"Finland!" Russia shouted. He was not going to shot the other nation in the back like some coward.

Finland turned around. His face was filled with pain and horror, but his expression showed he was angry as well. He raised his rifle.

"I knew you'd come." he said. He had a deep scratch below his left eye, the red fluid that ran from the wound made it look like he was crying blood. He was shaking. "Let's finish this."

Finland fired but his shakings made him miss with a few inches. Russia took his chance and fired at Finland's right arm. More blood. Finland cried out in pain and fired accidentally and the bullet scratched Russia's right arm. Russia moaned but shot again, this time he hit Finland's left leg and Finland fell to the ground.

Russia ran forward and kneeled beside his foe. Finland coughed and smiled bitterly.

"L-looks like you won... this time..."

Russia kept quiet. These wounds were deep, deeper then he had intended. He didn't want Finland to die, not after all they'd been through together. He didn't know if someone could survive this. Finland was loosing blood fast, the snow around him was already deeply red and Finland became more pale by the minute.

"Don't..." Russia said, his voice was shaking. "Don't die..."

"Me, die?" Finland smiled teasingly. "Since when do you care if I live or not?"

He coughed again.

"The snow is cold..." he said. "And my back is getting all wet..."

Russia helped Finland to sit up and sit between his legs, resting his back against Russia's chest.

"I just want to ask you one thing." Finland said weakly. "Why didn't you aim for my heart? You always aim for the heart."

Russia could feel Finland's blood soak his clothes but he couldn't care less. Staines seemed like a very nice, everyday problem now.

"I thought I might hit my own heart if I took aim at yours..."

"What?" Finland asked confused and tired.

Russia wrapped his arms around the smaller nation and held him close.

"Don't think about that now. Please just try to stay still..."

"All right..." said Finland and leaned against Russia's chest. "I'm awfully tired..."

"No, Finland don't close your eyes-"

It was too late. Finland had closed his eyes and didn't move. He was quiet and looked so terribly small and fragile.

"Finland, wake up!" begged Russia horrified. "Finland, you can't sleep now, you might never wake up! Wake up!"

Finland didn't move. Russia felt how his eyes became wet and big salt tears ran down his cheeks. He cried out in desperation and grief. It was never supposed to get this far. Finland was not meant to die. He couldn't die. Russia bent over the motionless country and hugged him tightly while crying.

"Tino..."


End file.
